Flying

I know this blog has pretty much gone neglected for most of the fall semester— but I'm doing my best to revive it now. I did a lot of writing this past semester for my classes and for the CU Independent, so I sort of forgot to write for my own enjoyment. But now I'm home in Annapolis for Christmas break, sitting by the fire and the decorated tree with my grandma. And I can't think of a more relaxing thing to do than write.

This semester has been different than any other at school. I've started to prioritize sleep and manage my time so I feel less constantly stressed. I don't go out as often, but I've had just as much fun at roommate/team move nights and I haven't had to deal with so many hangovers (yuck). I've worked hard to get back in shape after Italy, and I finally feel like I'm back where I was this time last year, fitness-wise. This semester I grew closer with my teammates, took classes that I actually liked, and took more time to myself. Now that I'm home for break, I'm taking advantage of the opportunity to relax and recharge before Boulder spring. It sounds like I've been more like an old lady than a college kid this fall, but it was really what I needed.

I'm not anxious to be back in Colorado yet, either. Normally I get tired of being home pretty fast— I miss the independence of college life and I miss having my team around to motivate me. But this is the first time I've been home since summer, and I want it to last. I'm better at motivating myself than I used to be: I know that a good workout will always make my day happier and make me more pleasant to be around, so I usually make it happen. But Italy also taught me that it's okay to take a break, so I won't make training my life right now. Christmas break is about family, friends, and the comforts of home, so workouts are really just for my own sanity :)

And once I get back to Boulder, I have so much to look forward to. My roommate and friend Hilary is coming home from Spain, trading places with Veronica in the house at Whitney Place (though I'll miss V too!) I'm going to be an editor for the CU Independent sports section, and the basketball season is about to get into full swing. The tri team retreat is in February, with all the team bonding/partying/snowshoeing that it always entails. Then we have another time trial, regionals at Lake Havasu in March, and finally Nationals in April— back to back to back in 'Bama ;)

My friend Kari and I were playing a board game the other day. I had to answer the question "If you could have one superpower, what would it be?," and one of the choices was eternal optimism. I chose that one, since "challenges are the joys of life." Kari's response: "I feel like the fact that you just said that means you're probably already an optimist." She has a point...

So my superpower of choice, in the end? Flying.

Give and take,
Caryn

Casa de Pancakeo

It's that time of year again.

The CU Tri Team has been back at school and training hard for a few months now. We’ve spent hours in the pool, on the bike and on the trails, and our first time trial is behind us. Needless to say, all this training has us a little tired out. Thanksgiving break is just around the corner, but until then, we’ve been doing all we can to motivate each other to keep working hard.

That’s why this Sunday, four teammates decided to host a pancake party following our weekly long run. Our team has gotten pretty skilled at pancake-making over the the past year, thanks to the ingenuity of Rudy Kahsar and other like-minded cake connoisseurs. We know, for instance, that Oreos make the best mix-ins and that while maple syrup is a classic topping, vanilla yogurt and peanut butter can work wonders on a flapjack.


Before we could chow down on pancakes, though, we had to earn them with a good workout. With a big group — about 20 runners of varying speeds — and a workout that could range from 45 to 90 minutes, we knew we would spread out over time. Still, we left together from the “Casa de Pancakeo,” heading south towards Bobolink Trail and eventually to Marshall Mesa.

It was a warm but windy morning, and as we struggled up hills into oncoming gusts, the only thing that kept us going was the prospect of pancakes to come. Marshall Mesa is a set of rolling trails near Colorado Highway 93, and it is completely exposed. We had no shelter from the wind and were all trying to draft off each other to make the effort a little more bearable.

As the time on our watches slowly ticked by, we finally settled into a comfortable pace. Finishing a long run is always a mental battle, but with teammates to talk to and pace with, it tends to be over sooner than you think. We picked up speed for the final few miles, knowing that the faster we made it back to the house, the sooner delicious cakes would be filling our bellies. When we reached the driveway of the Casa de Pancakeo, someone’s GPS recorded 10.8 miles; naturally, we took one more lap around the block to get to a solid 11 (it’s a triathlete thing).

Rob Helvestine was the hero of the morning as he poured dollops of pancake batter onto the skillet and took mix-in requests nonstop. The rest of us, spent from our effort and in need of some serious fuel, huddled around the stovetop with our paper plates outstretched. Leave it to a team of college-aged triathletes to consume enough pancakes and coffee to feed a small country over the course
of an hour.

Without times like these, we wouldn’t really be a team — we would just be a big group of training partners. Triathlon in itself is an individual sport, but when we take the time to bond over new pancake-topping creations, we make it a team thing. It may sound silly, but the friendships we build outside of regular practice are the ones that will stick.

And when we race, those friendships will carry us to the finish line.

Give and take.
Caryn

CU triathlon takes on Pumpkinman

A firsthand account of one club team's trip to Vegas

By Caryn Maconi on October 17, 2011 — originally published in the 2011 Colorado Football official game program, Colorado Buffaloes vs. Oregon Ducks

When I headed to Vegas with the CU Triathlon Team last weekend, we weren’t trying to win a game of blackjack.

This club team was looking for victory at the 2011 Pumpkinman Triathlon, a multisport event that combines swimming, biking and running into one race.

Pumpkinman is one of several races the CU team does in the fall before the larger collegiate regional and national championships in March and April. As part of the Mountain Collegiate Triathlon Conference, we battle teams like Air Force, Colorado State, Northern Arizona and Arizona State — but they’ve got nothing on us.

The CU Tri Team has won 12 national championships since its inception in 1994, and we’re aiming for our third straight and 13th overall title this April.

In Vegas, we were just giving our competition a preview.

On Thursday morning, we loaded four cars and a trailer with 15 people, their bikes and whole lot of gear. Then we headed out of Boulder, only to arrive 12 hours later in… Boulder.

Boulder City, Nevada, that is.

Since the team regularly camps, we stayed near the race site about 25 miles outside of Las Vegas at the Lake Mead National Recreation Area. The tents went up as soon as we arrived on Thursday night. We crashed early, knowing we had a big weekend ahead.

As usual, Friday was a day of rest, race preparation and plenty of carb-loading. We made sure our bikes were working properly, tested the water in Lake Mead with a quick swim, and went on a jog to loosen our legs. The inevitable pre-race spaghetti dinner was prepared out of an RV by one team member’s parents. It was early to bed again, but this time, the anticipation of the morning to come made it difficult to sleep.

At 5:30 a.m. on Saturday, I awoke to the sound of ten phone alarms going off at once.

It was race morning, and we were ready to rock.

Our campsite was a scene of organized chaos as we made our final preparations, taping race numbers onto bikes and pumping low tires by the light of our headlamps. We made it to the race site just after sunrise, and after setting up our transition areas and donning our wetsuits, we huddled together for our team cheer:

Iki la boomba
Iki la wiki liki
Affa la waffa laffa
Oo-chee-ahh! 

None of us knows the translation of this tribal chant or even what language it is, but it sure works to get us pumped.

The entire Pumpkinman event actually features three races of varying distances – a sprint, an olympic distance and a half-Ironman. The olympic distance, a 1.5k swim, 40k bike and 10k run, is the classic collegiate distance, but we also had some first-timers racing the sprint (half that of an olympic distance).

As I watched the sprinters start their swim, my heart beat faster. I hadn’t done an olympic since nationals last spring, and I couldn’t wait to race alongside my team again.

Soon, it was time for my wave to start. The gun went off, and everyone shot forward at once. Knowing the swim was my weakness, I tried to to set a comfortable pace and avoid getting kicked in the face. As I made it back to shore and headed into transition, I prepared to make up some time on the bike.

The biggest challenge of Pumpkinman’s bike course is its hills. The first half is rolling, but the course ends with a gradual incline on a bike trail followed by a steep hill up to the second transition area. As I crested that last hill, I thought of the mountains we train on in Boulder, knowing I was ready for a challenge like this.

Finally, it was time for my strength – the run. We’d been racing for two hours already, and the Nevada sun felt like an oven. My legs were nearly shot, but I was motivated by my teammates. I knew two CU girls were just a few minutes ahead, and I wanted to catch them.

In the end, the three of us finished less than five minutes apart, a promising sign of our team’s depth. Senior Courtney Clark finished 4th of all women in 2:43:47, I came in 6th (2:45:38), and junior Elisa Schauer was 9th (2:49:45). On the men’s side, graduate student Rob Helvestine finished 4th in 2:18:59, senior Eric Ebeling was 8th (2:23:20), and sophomore Jesse Frank was 9th (2:23:43).

To boot, we had two girls complete their first olympic distance race this weekend and three people complete the sprint as their first-ever triathlon.

On the CU Tri Team, though, success is about more than just results.

Success is being a true team in a sport that’s individual on the surface. We constantly push each other to new levels in training and racing. We pick up the slack when another teammate has an off-day, something we’ve all experienced at some point.

Most of all, we care about each other both on and off course. Those newbies who raced with us for the first time this weekend? They joined because they saw something in us that they wanted to be a part of. We’re not just a team — we’re a family.

And when the race is over and the hard work is done, we sure know how to party in Vegas.

Annapolis Summer

In four days - FOUR DAYS! - I'll be getting on a plane back to Colorado. I really can't wait. I feel like it's been forever since I've seen beautiful Boulder, especially because I've kind of had two separate summers. And yes, I still miss Italy and everyone I met there. But over the past month I've soaked in that perfect American summer feeling at the pool and on the water, and I think I might actually be sad to say goodbye to home.

A couple weeks ago I went from just lifeguarding to teaching morning swim lessons, and it's been 1000x more fun. I love seeing kids learn, especially when I've had something to do with it, and I love how excited they get when they pass the swim test or master the back float they've been struggling with. You can just see when something clicks in their minds, and they can't wait to show it to everyone they know. Sometimes I can't tell who is happier about learning something new, the kid or me. I also like being on the lessons crew because I get to know the camp kids that come to the pool every day of the summer. I've made friends with several of them, and I know which ones to look out for when they stray into deep water. I know a pool and a classroom are completely different things, but teaching swim lessons has reinforced my decision to get an elementary teaching license. I can't wait for my practicum this fall!

Summer at home has also given me a chance to reconnect with old friends, both from high school and childhood. My "lifers," as we called ourselves in high school, have never struggled with staying friends post-college. We continue our long-held traditions, such as walking to Kaleigh's beach dragging a box of Natty Boh in her baby sister's wagon, then drinking on the dock and talking about life. Or swimming in Rachel's backyard pool and reminiscing about how weird we once were (even though we know we haven't changed.) I've also spent some quality time with Bessie, my best friend since age two. In high school, with completely different friend groups and interests, we drifted apart a little, but lately we've remembered the power of "shoombadles" (our... friendship word... I really can't explain.) Bessie's heading to France in a few days to study at the American University of Paris, so we're trying to fit in as much Bessie-Bobo time as possible. I'm lovin' it.

And, uh, about that triathlon thing... I honestly have been trying to get back in shape, but with only a few days left until I see my team, I'm prioritizing friend/family time and things like packing. I've been delinquent with masters' swimming and early spin classes lately, mostly because I don't want to worry about waking up at 5:30 am when I'm out with friends the night before. Also, I think I really am addicted to a team, or at least training with a buddy. If I don't make it to masters or spin class in the morning, it's hard to motivate myself to go alone. Which is why I desperately need the CU Tri Team to come to my rescue! Warning, guys: I may not be super fast for the first couple weeks, and I may or may not faint if we do an "easy run up Flagstaff." Bear with me.

See you soon, Boulder!
Give and take,
Caryn

Rebounding

I still miss Italy... the experience, the people, the lifestyle. Being home is so different. Everyone speaks my language, an "antique" is something made in the 1950s, and coffee comes in a giant thermos rather than a sweet little mug. Instead of the beautiful view of Urbino's city walls, I'm watching sweaty kids playing in the pool from the vantage point of my lifeguard chair. In about a week the last of my friends that are still in Italy will be returning to the States, and I'll no longer be able to follow their blogs and photos, imagining I'm in Europe again. I guess it's time to get over being mopey and start focusing on real life.

Between my Italian trip and my return to Colorado in mid-August, I'm trying to work as much as possible and get back into shape. With humid Maryland days and a heat index of 115, though, finding energy and motivation is not easy. I haven't been able to go on a run longer than half an hour without feeling like passing out, and the pool feels like bath water. It's the first time I've taken such an extended break from exercise since junior year of high school, and it's a tough climb back up.

One thing that always gets me going, though, is a new piece of equipment. I just paid the deposit for my new tri bike, a Quintana Roo Chicqilo 2010. It's pink and white and super fast, and it's waiting for me in Highlands Ranch. The day I fly into Denver on August 17, I'm heading over to pick it up. Having a well-fitting, speedy bike will definitely make me want to get out on the roads as much as possible. I'm tired of spin class! I've also got a brand new pair of running shoes, the most recent version of the Mizuno Wave Riders, and my first pair of racing flats, neon yellow Saucony Grid Type A4s (free with the gift certificate we won at Nationals!) Who wouldn't want to get out and use all this fancy new gear?

I just keep telling myself that if I work hard through this part of the summer, bear the heat and humidity, and rely heavily on my iPod, I'll be back to my team in no time. In three weeks, I'll be in the foothills of Boulder trying to survive "Hell Week" with old and new Buffs. I'll be moving into a cute, spacious house with two of my best friends and one teammate that I'm looking forward to getting to know better. I'll have a class schedule full of journalism and education classes (no more calc!), and I'll go back to the CU Independent as an experienced returning reporter. I may even have a job at Boom Yogurt Bar, a brand new Ripple-style joint owned by a couple professional triathletes, Matt and Kelly Reed. (Just sent in the application, so it'll be a little while before I know for sure!)

Though I love being home, I get restless knowing that Colorado life is just around the corner. I miss being part of such a close-knit group like I had in Urbino, and it's hard to find that at home this summer since so many of my friends are traveling. Once in Boulder, I'll settle back into my CU Tri Team family, reunite with my best friends/sisters/roommates, and of course meet tons of new people. And being greeted every morning with the incredible Flatirons will be pretty cool too, I guess.

23 days. Hurry up :)

Give and take.
Caryn

  

Urbino: An Impossible Summary

Before I left for Italy, I promised family and friends that I would blog at least every once in awhile about my adventures. I wrote two before coming to Urbino, and then just... didn't. Rather than sitting at a computer, I preferred hanging out in the piazza (the main town square) with my best friends, reporting and interviewing for my magazine feature story, or spending time with the boy I met and grew close with over just a couple weeks. When I wasn't doing any of that, I was catching up on much-needed sleep or refueling at the mensa (dining hall). So I don't apologize for not blogging while in Urbino-- my only regret is that now I'll have to try and summarize four incredible weeks now that I'm already home.

I've been home from Italy for five days, and each one has felt like the day after Christmas. I wake up, realize I'm not in my dorm in Colle and won't be going to eat my daily croissant and cappuccino with my group, and just want to go back. I've been spending so much time on the computer looking at pictures and talking to my Urbino friends that my family and friends here don't think I like them anymore. Considering how much I miss my group and the town of Urbino itself, I think it's safe to say it was an absolutely amazing experience.

When the trip started, many of us were a little uncertain. The dorms were a long walk from the main part of town, we had no internet access, and the program seemed pretty disorganized. Once we started doing our reporting, we had some difficulty setting up interviews and finding interpreters, and a lot of our story ideas had to either be modified or changed completely. There was a lot of homesickness, frustration, and stress in the first week or two, but I knew it was all character-building. We learned about some of the challenges of international reporting, and we became close with each other along the way.

By the time the second week was over, I had completed all of my reporting and was starting to work on writing my feature article. My story was on cyclotourism: a form of travel via bike in which travelers see different towns and attractions, stopping along the way to explore and enjoy. Though it took forever, I actually found a place to rent a bike in a nearby town and did a little "cyclotouring" myself, along part of a route I'd picked up at Urbino's tourism office. I then drove the remainder of the course with an interpreter and did some interviews with the owner of a bike shop and a local triathlete. During my ride/drive, I discovered a few towns with rich history that are pretty much unknown to the average tourist -- you can read about them in my article, which I'll post here soon. I was working hard to get all of my reporting done before the weekend so I could travel, and I'm so, so glad I did.

A group of about ten of us chose Cinque Terre as our one big traveling adventure. It's a gorgeous set of five towns along the Mediterranean coast, all less than five miles apart. We hiked between the towns, stopping in each one to swim, shop, and snack on gelato/pizza/fruit. I walked down the Via Dell'Amore with Max... it was pretty perfect. And we ate amazing seafood at the same restaurant two nights in a row (because it was just so darn good.) Even though we failed in our plan to spend the night on the beach, sleeping on the balcony of our hotel listening to the nighttime sounds of Monterosso was totally worth it. We were sad to leave the magic of Cinque Terre, and a train strike in Tuscany made our way back to Urbino long and miserable, but our time there was some of the best travel I've ever done.

The third week was crunch time for writing our stories, which means many hours spent at the cafe and many euros spent on cappuccinos. Little sleep, lots of nail biting, and a strong need to blow of steam at night in the piazza. This town square, with a fountain in the middle surrounded by a restaurant, pharmacy, cafe, and bar, become our second home. The businesses didn't even have names (not that we knew of, anyway) -- we just called them "the cafe" and "Giorgio's Bar." We spent at least a couple hours in the piazza every night, and it's where most of our best memories were made. Some things I'll never forget: teaching the Italians how to play Thumper (the universal language), throwing everyone into the fountain at various times and for various reasons, watching the Italians graduate one at a time in their laurel crowns, ordering rum & cola over and over again from Giorgio, explaining the meaning of the word "lightweight" to the bartenders when Yue was too drunk, and giving everyone tearful hugs on the last night when we decided not to sleep before catching the 5 am bus to the airport.

That final week was an emotional one. We were doing the final edits and sidebars for our stories, but we had other things on our mind. We would be leaving each other soon, and while we were looking forward to being home, we were anticipating some tough goodbyes. My favorite memories from the last week: Canada Day / our friend SirRoan's birthday, which we celebrated at Bosom Bar and during which our Pulitzer Prize-winning photojournalism professor snapped photos of us taking shots all night... "Pink Night," a themed, all-night party on the beaches of Rimini and Riccione that a few friends and I went to with no plan whatsoever, getting back to Urbino at 9:30 am still drunk and toting foam crowns and pink tulle fabric.. the 4th of July, when Giorgo's bar gave us half-price drinks and Q Club held an "Indipendance Party" that SirRoan DJ-ed... and our final meal as an entire group, a banquet at a restaurant across from the Duomo.

On the second-to-last night, things mellowed out when the boy I was with heard about the death of one of his best friends. As I helped him through that loss, knowing at the same time that it was my last two days with him and with the rest of my group, I spent a whole lot of time crying. I did a lot of reflecting on why I had come to Italy, what I had learned here and how it had changed me, and whether or not I'd made the most out of my time. I'm proud of the work I created and the skills I learned in terms of journalism and international reporting. I expanded my perspective beyond the bubble that is Boulder, Colorado, got to know a whole different way of life, and improved my Italian tenfold. Most of all, though, I'm really grateful to have met such amazing people, both Italian and American. I made a few friends that I know I'll keep for a very long time, and I met a boy who made the whole experience twice as special. Like my friend Maddie said, "You can't search for genuine experience, it has to find you and it will most likely kick your ass just as much as it heals you."


The sadness I've been feeling since being home is that kick in the ass, that proof that I've just had a life-changing adventure. I'm glad that I'm sad, if that makes any sense... because I know it was worth every minute.

Arrivederci, Italia -- I'll be back.

Urbino Clutter

Sooo.... I've been doing so much writing for our magazine here in Urbino that I really haven't felt like writing a long blog. Instead, I'm just copy-pasting a word doc that I've had open and that I've been building since we got here. It's a bunch of random lists, quotes, and song lyrics that probably don't make sense to anyone else, but right now it's the best I can do. I just had two cappuccinos, can't focus... and oh yeah, HAPPY CANADA DAY! We have four Canadians in our group and we're livin' it up tonight.

Here, enjoy the clutter.

• toscana: fattoria tregole, wine tour, big lunch, carsick/castles, homemade dinner
• norwegians run, pool, firenze w/ bernardo, homemade lunch by grandma
• long car/bus/train/car day to masseria dell’isola in mola di bari, huge late dinner by rita, listening to italian table
• huge breakfast, beach towns, ostuni, alberobello w/ tulli, italian directions, dinner by rita and her history
• tedious money issues w/ rita, to san teodoro, homemade dinner (calamari and orechiette)
• san teodoro day: run to beach while dad biked, pool, beach, lunch on balcony, laps in pool (giovanni), attempt to go out w/ crazy pisticci driving, gelato
• drive beautiful mountain views to sorrento, insane driving in city, angel in lavender pants, tiny villa angiolina finally, pompeii!, great fish dinner w/ drunk grandma
• bus to positano on amalfi coast, beach day, ferry back, amazing family love, dinner at tasso
• trains to rome, scammer man with mom, drop off at rome airport, bus to urbino, tons of steps, mediocre dinner, numbers and bed (summer camp-ish)

TOOTHPASTE!

SHAMPOO AND CONDITIONER and hand soap/body wash

EXTRA TOWELS/LINENS/WASHCLOTHS

Q-TIPS

toilet paper?

Now, as I feel myself getting sunburned before the ride has even begun, I can’t remember why. 

maybe the train switches but we dont

blue scholars-- mary in sunshine 

album cinematropolis

“he asked if I had a good time last night”

*** a cashier from behind (a)

*** look inside this open door to see the restoration (not resurrection) of Jesus (c)

*** Rafaello sculpture (not crucial) (f)

*** the oldest tree in urbino (j) --> past red door end of road??

*** a shadow of time (k)

*** a religious procession (gelato or coffee?) (o)

*** the towns oldest pharmacy? confirm? (q) go inside?

-- 3 bike in field portraits

-- portraits of Roberto, Angelo, and Fabio

-- me with bike

-- backside of castle and castle with tree in front and farther out castle w/ tree

-- Urbania sign

-- Sant’Angelo in Vado sign

-- clock in Piandemeleto

-- Piandemeleto shadows

-- Cascata / Industrial sign

-- hilly landscape

-- landscape w/ town and vines

-- Piandemeleto Ristorante Toni and Rosy

-- Metaurus River

-- Sant’Angelo landscape w/ water (w/ and w/o bike), Sant’Angelo town w/ flags

-- Cascata del Sasso (2 landscapes and portrait)

-- Happy Bike (store front and door)

-- bike against tree

La cantuccio

cat daddy, cat daddy

“I have some guam in me, obviously”

• Are you ready for the heat?
• If you’re planning on riding midday, sunscreen and water are crucial items. Summer temperatures in Le Marche commonly reach __ degrees, and dehydration can become a serious risk. 
• Many public fountains in Italy spout clean, drinkable water. But before you fill that empty bottle, look for any signs that say “non potabile.” If you have doubts about a fountain’s drinkability, just ask a local, “Si puo beve?” It means, “Can you drink this?”

***** when you get there don’t look for store sign

but there just aint no place like home... if you ever see the beauty of the hills of carolina or the sweetness of the grass in tennessee

European Adventures Part 2: Angel in Lavender Pants

This whole blogging-while-in-Italy thing isn't happening as often as I was planning, but I've also been a lot busier than I was planning... in a good way. I can't believe I haven't written since the first week, but I'll try to sum up the remaining weeks with my family and the beginning of my study abroad.

After leaving Casperia, my dad, mom, and grandmother made our way to the Fattoria Tregole, a charming bed & breakfast in the Chinati region of Tuscany. There, we took a wine tour with a guy named Dario Castagno and learned all about the history of Chianti Classico, complete with tastings all the way through and a five-course meal to finish. It was my favorite day of the trip, until we got lost trying to tour some Tuscan castles and ending up driving through switchbacks for three hours inducing some rough carsickness... I don't want to talk about it.

I started the next day with a beautiful morning run under the Tuscan sun with some new Norwegian friends who were also staying at Tregole-- one of only five runs since I've been here, I'm sad to say. We spent the afternoon in Florence and went on a guided tour with a man named Bernardo, who showed us the Duomo, Michelangelo's David, Brunelleschi's Dome, the room where the Mona Lisa was painted, and Dante Aleighieri's church. Florence is overwhelmingly filled with tourists, but I can see why-- it has SO much incredible history.

From Tuscany, we headed south to Bari, where my grandma's parents were born. We stayed at a place called the Masseria dell'Isola, and I probably gained ten pounds in two days. Our host, Rita, served us endless dinners with so much food that, while delicious, I could barely appreciate because it was just too much. Breakfasts were similar-- cream-filled fried croissants called "Bomboloni," panna cotta, biscotti, and giant fruit plates. If we had stayed there for a week, we all would've been obese. But Rita was one of the nicest and most hardworking people I've ever met, and her passion for food was admirable.

While in Bari, we explored some beach towns and nearby attractions, my favorite being Alberobello. This tiny town has tons of structures called "trulli," little trianglular gazebo-type houses that aren't found anywhere else in the world. No one knows exactly why they're built the way they are, but apparently they're all structured in such a way that if a specific brick is removed, the whole roof collapses. This may have been because the Counts of Conversano, who founded the town, were trying to avoid taxes and needed the town to be quickly dismantled if royal authorities got wind.

The best part of our Southern adventure, though, was seeing the tiny town of Toritto where my grandma's parents actually lived. Almost immediately, we found a street with the last name of my great-grandmother. We also met an English speaker who, after looking at our family tree, told us that several of the last names in our lineage belonged to families who still lived in Toritto. We didn't stay long, since the siesta was going on and it looked like a ghost town, but that one little trip had a big emotional impact on my grandmother. Even after all the difficulties of traveling across the country as an 85-year old, seeing Toritto made my grandma's whole trip worth it.

Next up was Metaponto, another southern region not too far from Bari. We stayed at an amazing resort-like place called San Teodoro, where we soaked up the beach and the poolside and recharged our inner batteries. The best part about San Teodoro was our beautiful host Giovanni, the best-looking Italian I've met so far. :)

From Metaponto we drove to our final spot, Sorrento. Trying to take a big rental car through skinny roads built before the age of cars, handling impatient and speedy Italian drivers, avoiding Vespas that wove between people and cars, and attempting to follow a highly confused GPS was NOT a good idea. After getting stuck several times, almost getting into a few accidents, and becoming hopelessly lost, we were about to lose it when we met our angel. A man on a Vespa, wearing lavender pants and toting a three-year old in front, pulled up to our car and asked in English if we needed help. He then talked to our hotel manager in Italian, handed the phone back, and asked us to follow him. We followed our angel through town for almost ten minutes-- in the meantime, he pulled over to let his son throw away a juice box, stopped to shake hands with a friend, and frequently looked back to make sure we were still alive. When he finally pointed us to the hotel, he waved and drove away before we got a chance to thank him. It completely turned our day around.

Later that day we saw Pompeii, the volcano-destroyed ancient Roman city I've been studying in Latin classes since sixth grade. It was incredible and scary at the same time-- especially the bodies preserved in stone during their final agonizing moments. I would NOT want to get stuck there at night. I was much happier spending the evening eating fresh fish by the seaside and watching my grandma get, in her own words, "toasted" on vino rosso.

On my last full day with the family, we took a bus along the Amalfi Coast, stopping in Positano for lunch, window shopping, and a nap on the beach. We took a ferry home, had dinner at a nice but touristy place in town, and went to bed, all four of us in one tiny college-dorm style room. I know I'm usually away from my family for semesters at a time, but after three weeks of experiencing so much together, I think I'm going to miss them more than I thought.

In the morning, it off to Rome, where my mom came with me to the airport and dropped me off with my Urbino Project study abroad group. I've been here at the University of Urbino for almost a week, but since this post is already long enough, I'll write about my experiences here shortly. So far, though, I've made some great friends, had some late nights of partying, and realized that I'll be working more than ever in "real-world" style journalism for the next three weeks. Bring it on!

Dare e prendere.
Caryn

European Adventures Part 1: Farms, Food, and Phantoms

I can't believe it-- I've been in Europe for a week, and I'm just now finding the time to write. It's not that I haven't had down time, but I've been so busy relaxing, eating delicious meals that last for three hours, and trying to mix French, Italian, and English to talk with people that I've barely thought about the blog I promised to keep up. I've already had so many amazing experiences, and I still have six weeks left! But although I've been to the Notre Dame and the Eiffel Tower, taken taxis, buses, metros, and trains through bustling cities, and done plenty of shopping, the best moments have been quiet ones in the countryside. I would probably feel like I was missing something crucial if I didn't "see the sights" in famous cities like Paris, Rome, and Florence, but mostly I've found that real French and Italian people prefer to take life slowly. They work in the mornings, take a long lunch break with fresh, delicious food and wine, and have an afternoon siesta. A little more work in the evening, then a light dinner and some family time before bed. Even those with demanding jobs recognize the value of family time and a good glass of wine. It's such a contrast to the constantly rushed lifestyle I have at school in Colorado, and while I love my busy Boulder routine, it's been amazing to see things from a different perspective.

My mom and I spent our first few days in Ussy-sur-Marne, France, a little farming village on the Marne River about 45 minutes from Paris. Moe Delaitre, a former neighbor who has been my "other mother" since I was two, fell in love with and married a French farmer, and she recently moved from the States to France permanently. We stayed at her farmhouse with her husband, Jean Francois, and her 7-year-old daughter, Ella. We spent six days in France, mostly on the farm but including day trips to Paris and Reims. During that time, Moe, "JF,"and Ella were our translators, cultural guides, and dear friends.

And then it was Italy time. Early yesterday morning, we took a plane to Rome Ciampino, and after a long day of traveling, met my dad and grandmother in a tiny, ancient walled city called Casperia. Here, we've had some incredible pizza, pasta, and wine, taken long walks, and enjoyed the mountain scenery from the balcony of our bed and breakfast. It all feels like a dream.

Some of my favorite moments of this week (a LOT of them have to do with food!):

- Fresh farm food in Ussy: Picking strawberries and cherries (which were later made into jam), watching the cows being milked and then drinking that milk the same day, and eating baguettes fresh from the bakery at every meal.
- Drinking champagne at a restaurant in the actual region of Champagne in France with my mother and my "other mother"
- Eating at a tiny creperie in Paris. In the midst of the tourist-filled city, Moe found us an authentic place on a side street where there were only "real French people."
- Going to a party for a Catholic girl's "profession de foi"(profession of faith) at a neighboring farm and seeing the castle that was the inspiration for the one in Beauty and the Beast
- The moment when, after taking a taxi, plane, bus, metro, train, and another bus from Ussy all the way to Casperia, my mom and I finally saw my dad running down the hill from the bed and breakfast to greet us
- The five-course meal made for us by Paola and Franco, two restaurant owners in Casperia who opened their home to a private dinner for the bed and breakfast guests
- Walking with my dad up a winding hill to a monastery where we could see the walled city of Casperia from a distance
- Using my Italian and translating for my family at a pizzeria in Casperia, where I watched my grandmother get tipsy

And the not-so-good:

- The farmhouse in Ussy is truly haunted. I stayed there another summer when I was about 13, and one of the girls I was traveling with got woken up in the night like she had been nudged by someone or something, and it terrified her. On our first night last week, I stayed in that same room, and woke up in the middle of the night to what felt like a poke in the ribs. I was so scared, I slept in my mom's bed the rest of the night, and in little Ella's bed for the nights after that. Moe thinks the ghost is her husband's grandmother, who died in childbirth inside the farmhouse. She's now comfortable with the ghost's presence, knowing she's just "checking in," but it still terrifies me.

- I've already accepted the fact that with all the pasta, pizza, gelato, and wine, and without all the triathlon training, I'll have a lot of work to do fitness-wise when I get home. I ran once in Ussy and again today in Casperia (very hilly!), and we've been walking a lot. Still, it's nearly impossible to try and stay a triathlete and be part of the traditional small-town Italian lifestyle at the same time. But I'm okay with taking a step back for a few weeks, I think. When I get to my study abroad in Urbino, which is hilly like Casperia, I'll work on finding a running buddy and getting back into it. I've also been assigned to the "Outdoor" section of the magazine we'll be creating, so hiking and caving, here I come! :)

Pictures coming soon!!!

Dare e prendere.
Caryn

A New Set of Priorities

I'm home! Here I am in Annapolis, Maryland, sitting at a table outside the City Dock Cafe in 70 degree sunny weather. It actually feels like summer here-- shorts and flip flops, ice cream outings, and that beautiful Chesapeake Bay. At the Naval Academy, the freshmen-to-be will be starting Plebe Summer soon (I'll feel sorry for them the next time I'm running on the Navy track in a tanktop and they jog by wearing camo and backpacks, but I admire what they go through.) Best of all, Annapolis is hosting a triathlon this Saturday! At the Tri-Rock sprint triathlon, athletes swim in the Chesapeake, bike by the Naval Academy, and run through historic colonial downtown. Live music all through the course! The race directors were in desperate need of lifeguards, and since Oscar is officially sold to my roomie and I'm therefore bike-less, I'll be seeing the race from a perspective other than a competitor this time. I'll most likely be on a float or boat out in the water looking out for tired swimmers-- and meanwhile, I'll get a chance to check out people's open water swimming techniques and maybe get some tips. :)

I'll only be here for ten more days, though. On May 23, my mom and I fly to Paris. We'll spend a few days in France visiting my other mother, Moe Delaitre, at her farm in Ussy. After that, my dad and grandmother will fly out to meet us and we'll tour Italy for a week or so-- my grandmother is especially excited to see Bari, the southern Italian town where her family grew up but which she has never visited. On June 10, my family heads home and I meet my group in Urbino, Italy, where I'll spend four weeks doing a study abroad in magazine production and international reporting. :) The University of Urbino is one of the oldest colleges in the world, founded in 1506. It's in central Italy near the Adriatic coast. We'll spend our mornings taking Italian language classes, have a break from 1 to 3 according to Italian custom, and do reporting, interviewing, seminars, or one-on-one coaching in the afternoon. Our end goal is to create an English-speaking magazine called "Urbino Now" about the community, its culture and customs.

Our course description tells us that the magazine "will be a reflection of your explorations and discoveries in this beautiful rural region of ancient fests, traditional crafts, slow food, and slower living." It sounds like the perfect summer to me. One thing I'll have to make peace with, though, is that I won't be training a whole lot. I won't have a bike, so riding won't be possible. I'll spend some time in a pool if there's one nearby, but I'm not going to spend hours a day in a place that's probably just the same as any in the U.S. I have been thinking over the possibility of some open water swimming in the Adriatic, but we'll see if that's realistic. I'm definitely going to try and run, but I've heard that if you run in Italy, people thing you're running from the cops or something, so I'll just have to see how it goes. These six weeks will be a chance for me to enjoy the "slower living" described above. My priorities will be learning as much as I can about writing and reporting, stepping outside of my comfort zone, exploring new places, meeting new people, and taking the time to savor Italian meals of pasta and red wine. I'll have all the time in the world to get moving again once I get back to Annapolis, but in Italy, I'll go slow.

Dare e prendere.
Caryn

Nationals, Finally

So I wrote this article, a firsthand experience of racing with The CU Tri Team at USAT Collegiate Nats, for www.tri-magazine.net. Which is why I never wrote a Nationals race report... I wanted to wait until this article came out so I could post it here. The June issue of tri-magazine just came out a week ago- you can subscribe free by going here: http://www.tri-magazine.net/subscribe.php. But here's my contribution:

Traditionally, triathlon is not a team sport. It requires hard work, determination, and perseverance on an individual level. For those who race USAT Collegiate Nationals, though, the sport takes on a completely different feel. Athletes are motivated to lay it all on the line for their teammates, not for themselves.

At the University of Colorado, that team atmosphere is truly something special. I am a sophomore at CU, and while I joined the CU Triathlon Team as a freshman, this was my first year as a member of the Nationals team. I watched our team win the National Championship last year, and I, along with the rest of my team, wanted more than anything to bring home the title for the second year in a row.

From September through April, we trained as a team. Together, we made it through some of the hardest workouts of our lives, pushing our limits more than we ever thought we could. We motivated each other on tough days, paced each other through painful intervals, and suffered together during the most diffi cult practices. Without my team, I would never have grown as an athlete as much as I have.

The members of the CU Tri Team, though, are more than just strong athletes– we are also best friends. In addition to spending hours a day training together, we also go out to eat after workouts, have fun on the weekends, and in some cases, even live together.

After our regional race in Lake Havasu, Ariz., about twenty of us chose to spend our spring break training as a team in Tucson. Mike Ricci, our head coach, gave us workouts that definitely scared us. Because we were in it together, though, we made it through. Something about suffering can really bring a team together, and we certainly suffered.

In the two weeks between spring break and Nationals, the anticipation among our team started to grow. We began our taper, and we felt the energy just waiting to come out on race day.

During a meeting a few days before we left for Nationals, my teammate Rudy gave us some words of confi dence. A transfer student from UVA, he had come from a different team that wasn’t as connected to each other as we are. “You don’t realize that you have an advantage just being on this team,” Rudy told us. On race day, I saw proof that he was right.

Before the first wave of the men’s race went off, we huddled up for our team cheer: Iki la boomba Iki la wiki liki Affa la waffa laffa Oo-chee-ahhh!

I don’t even know what language that is, but for some reason it gets us going. We were all fired up, but the girls would have to wait to race for another two and half hours.

As the men started their swim, the girls watched anxiously, trying to control our adrenaline. We cheered our top males out of the water; then moved towards the transition area so we could see them come by on the bike. When Rudy finished the first lap of the bike, he was less than a minute behind the leader, Dustin McClarty- a swimmer who had gone to the Olympic trials.

Once we had seen all our males through the first lap, my teammate Tess and I started a warm up run. We ran next to the racecourse, and as we were jogging, we saw Rudy out on his run – in first place. He had caught McLarty on the bike and was building up a lead. Ryan Bice, our other first-wave male, was in third, looking like he was flying. He would go on to post the fastest run split of the race in 33 minutes, 31 seconds.

Tess and I made it back to the finish line just as the crowd was preparing to welcome in the winner. We heard a warning for the start of the women’s swim warm up over the loudspeaker, but we ignored it. Our boys were so close to finishing, and there was no way we were missing it.

Unexpectedly, McLarty broke the tape. He had had a great run and had passed Rudy in the final miles. Rudy came in less than a minute later, looking completely spent. When Ryan crossed the line shortly afterwards, I witnessed my favorite moment of the day: my two teammates, nearly keeled over from exhaustion, leaning on each other for support.

The wave of emotion I felt after seeing Rudy and Ryan finish reminded me that I was about to race. I grabbed my female teammates and we headed over to the lake. We couldn’t recreate the “Iki la booma” cheer with just half the team, but we formed our own huddle and reminded each other how hard we’ve all worked, how far we’ve come, and how this was our chance to lay it all on the line for each other. It was go time.

Honestly, there’s not much to report about my race. The adrenaline, the physical effort, and the unbelievable heat combined to make my memories of that race a blur. The moments I will remember, though, are the ones where I saw my teammates out on the course, either racing or cheering from the sidelines.

The boys all yelled for us as we came out of the water. Seeing the intensity in their faces reminded me that they were depending on us for the championship. No matter how well they had just raced, they would need strong results from the women’s side to get the overall team title.

Since I’m a slow swimmer, I tend to start out from behind on the bike and make my way through the pack. I like that, since I get to see my teammates along the way. As I passed my teammate Molly, she reminded me to stay to the inside of the road to avoid a penalty. Looking back on how many penalties were given to our team, I’m thankful that she was there to keep me focused.

As I finished the second lap, I heard my coaches yelling at me to drink water- on a 90-degree day, I had forgotten to take one sip thus far. I made sure to stay hydrated over the last 12 miles, but I knew a painfully hot run was just around the corner.

Though I finished the 6.2-mile run in 43 minutes, 30 seconds, it seemed like a lifetime. Because of the intense heat and humidity, I felt like I could collapse at every step. It was thanks to my teammates and coaches that I was able to finish the race.I saw my coaches, Mike and Dave, just as I topped the last of the hard hills. They cared about my safety more than a fast fi nish, reminding me to drink water at every aid station.

Soon afterwards, I saw some of my male teammates. Their faces told me they had confidence in me; that they believed in my ability to run. I wanted to prove them right. All I had to do was keep passing people, one by one.

About four miles in, I saw my teammate Bryn. She couldn’t have been more than a minute ahead of me, but she had started in Wave 1- eight minutes ahead. She was supposed to be our second-fastest girl. What had happened?

Bryn looked over and noticed me. “We need you,” she called out. The fi rst four fi nishers determine the team score. I am not usually a part of that four, but it was clear that something had gone wrong in Bryn’s race. Now, I would be a part of the team score, and finishing the race strong mattered even more.

When I got to the finish line, I vomited and nearly collapsed. When I was able to stand up straight and see clearly, some of my male teammates approached me. “Hey, great race,” Rudy said. “That was unreal,” said my teammate Bryant.

Coach Dave, who had been receiving and taking care of each of our girls as they finished, walked me to the medical tent. I sat down in an ice bath, totally spent. Later on, looking at my time, I saw that I finished third on my team. Bryn had flatted on the bike, so we lost her in the team score.

Our coaches didn’t relax until all of our athletes had finished safely. Our teammate Will had collapsed during the men’s race and been taken to the hospital, but we confi rmed that he was doing okay. There was nothing left to do but head back to the hotel and await the results.

The men’s team received multiple penalties for allegedly drafting or blocking on the bike – never on purpose – so we knew the team scores would be shaken up. Nothing would be certain until the awards ceremony, but we all knew that we had given everything on the course, and that was all we could ask of each other.

The awards ceremony gave CU its second National Championship in a row and its 12th overall. Rudy ended up winning the male title due to a penalty by McLarty- not the ideal win, but Rudy deserved it nonetheless. The men’s team earned first, and the women third behind Navy and Army- an impressive finish considering we were without our No.2 girl. The men and women’s combined score was good for the overall title. Together, we accomplished what we had been working for all year.

This team is a family. When we race, we race for the good of each other. I am motivated and inspired by each and every one of teammates, and I hope they can say the same for me. Collegiate Nationals was one of the best days of my life- not because we won, but because we were there for each other. We worked through the highs and lows, the tears, the pain, the frustrations and the victories, as a team. That’s what CU Triathlon is about.

National Champion jersey photo credits: Greg Mionske